Fic: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (9/38)
Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (9/38)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Bruce does not appear in this chapter)
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. A Great Trial crashes down upon the House Of Wayne. Can Bruce and Clark’s relationship survive? Will the Family’s strength be enough to see them through this Time of Fear and Darkness? The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Clark wakes up and realizes he’s in a situation. Hint: it’s not good.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): October 7, 2008
Date Of Posting: September 15, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 659
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Shock,
Despair,
Terror.
A slave’s
Lot
In life.
Dr. Eleanor Quimby
"Slave Psychology
In The Modern Age"
2246 C.E.
IX
CAPTIVE
Clark awoke.
Blackness surrounded him, panic flashing through his mind. Was he blind?
The panic receded, replaced by overwhelming relief. He was still wearing his dark glasses.
He was also gagged, so yelling was out.
He tried to move.
His arms and legs were spread-eagled and stretched taut, chains attached to his wrist manacles and ankle manacles cold against his skin.
He was naked.
Clark shivered, feeling cotton sheets beneath him. He was lying on a bed that was comfortable, at least, unlike a filthy cage floor.
He had to remain calm and gather information like Batman and Robin would.
He had to clamp down on his fear.
His eyes were adjusting. A panelled room, maybe dark wood? He tried to lift his head but a short collar chain prevented it.
The ceiling was wood, too, and a picture on the wall showed the Gotham skyline. He barely saw the corner of a bureau.
There seemed to be patterns of filtered light on the wall, so there was a window. Shuttered?
He listened for sounds. No traffic or hovercraft. Nothing in the next room…wait, the low hum of a radio?
Clark remembered being in town with Bruce and Dick at the bookstore, then heading out on their way home. Bruce had stopped to talk to an acquaintance and Clark had heard a sound…
& & & & & &
A little girl was falling in the alley, surprise on her face. Clark instinctively rushed to her aid, saving her from a nasty fall. She smiled at him and Clark smiled back.
Suddenly her smile turned malevolent.
“Stupid whore.”
Shocked, Clark began to recoil, a sharp crack! of a gunshot the last thing he heard before everything went black…
& & & & & &
Was he in slavers’ hands?
How long had he been out?
Long enough to be taken off-world?
Despair rose up in him. What if he never saw Bruce again? Or Alfred or Dick or Brendan?
What would his captors do to him?
Clark tested his bonds again. He was stretched out enough to not be able to move.
And to be open and ready.
Shivering, he strained to hear anything.
Was that a crow’s caw?
It wasn’t a very good clue. He could be in the city or country, though the pinewood paneling suggested a cottage or cabin, which would probably be in the country.
Was he being held for ransom? Oh, if only!
He shuddered. The only man he’d ever known, who’d had his body completely, had been Bruce. He’d been a virgin when sold to his Prince.
His stomach tightened. The slavers and auction guards had used him badly in different ways.
His mouth…
Clark closed his eyes.
He’d be lucky to only be used that way this time.
He tensed as he heard a noise. The door opened.
It was too dark to make out the features of the person entering the room. His kidnapper came close to the bed.
A strong hand slid up his thigh, replaced by the cold glint of steel. The sharp point of a knife skimmed lightly over his bare skin, leaving no mark or pain, but promising both.
Clark felt the fear ratchet up as the knife hovered over his cheek. Teeth gleamed in the darkness.
“Ah, my son is going to love his birthday present.”
Clark’s body went rigid with shock.
His kidnapper laughed, running his palm down Clark’s stomach and wrapping it around his cock, suddenly squeezing it viciously, the ball gag muffling Clark’s scream.
The kidnapper ran the tip of the knife along the length of the abused cock, patted a bare thigh, laughing as he left the room.
Tears of pain and terror ran down Clark’s face.
His nightmare had come true.
He was in the merciless hands of Edmund Caldwell.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Yes, I cheated by not putting Edmund’s name in the Characters/Pairings lines or in the tags, but I thought there might have been some people who hadn’t guessed. ;)
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Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Bruce does not appear in this chapter)
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. A Great Trial crashes down upon the House Of Wayne. Can Bruce and Clark’s relationship survive? Will the Family’s strength be enough to see them through this Time of Fear and Darkness? The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Clark wakes up and realizes he’s in a situation. Hint: it’s not good.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): October 7, 2008
Date Of Posting: September 15, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 659
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Shock,
Despair,
Terror.
A slave’s
Lot
In life.
Dr. Eleanor Quimby
"Slave Psychology
In The Modern Age"
2246 C.E.
IX
CAPTIVE
Clark awoke.
Blackness surrounded him, panic flashing through his mind. Was he blind?
The panic receded, replaced by overwhelming relief. He was still wearing his dark glasses.
He was also gagged, so yelling was out.
He tried to move.
His arms and legs were spread-eagled and stretched taut, chains attached to his wrist manacles and ankle manacles cold against his skin.
He was naked.
Clark shivered, feeling cotton sheets beneath him. He was lying on a bed that was comfortable, at least, unlike a filthy cage floor.
He had to remain calm and gather information like Batman and Robin would.
He had to clamp down on his fear.
His eyes were adjusting. A panelled room, maybe dark wood? He tried to lift his head but a short collar chain prevented it.
The ceiling was wood, too, and a picture on the wall showed the Gotham skyline. He barely saw the corner of a bureau.
There seemed to be patterns of filtered light on the wall, so there was a window. Shuttered?
He listened for sounds. No traffic or hovercraft. Nothing in the next room…wait, the low hum of a radio?
Clark remembered being in town with Bruce and Dick at the bookstore, then heading out on their way home. Bruce had stopped to talk to an acquaintance and Clark had heard a sound…
& & & & & &
A little girl was falling in the alley, surprise on her face. Clark instinctively rushed to her aid, saving her from a nasty fall. She smiled at him and Clark smiled back.
Suddenly her smile turned malevolent.
“Stupid whore.”
Shocked, Clark began to recoil, a sharp crack! of a gunshot the last thing he heard before everything went black…
& & & & & &
Was he in slavers’ hands?
How long had he been out?
Long enough to be taken off-world?
Despair rose up in him. What if he never saw Bruce again? Or Alfred or Dick or Brendan?
What would his captors do to him?
Clark tested his bonds again. He was stretched out enough to not be able to move.
And to be open and ready.
Shivering, he strained to hear anything.
Was that a crow’s caw?
It wasn’t a very good clue. He could be in the city or country, though the pinewood paneling suggested a cottage or cabin, which would probably be in the country.
Was he being held for ransom? Oh, if only!
He shuddered. The only man he’d ever known, who’d had his body completely, had been Bruce. He’d been a virgin when sold to his Prince.
His stomach tightened. The slavers and auction guards had used him badly in different ways.
His mouth…
Clark closed his eyes.
He’d be lucky to only be used that way this time.
He tensed as he heard a noise. The door opened.
It was too dark to make out the features of the person entering the room. His kidnapper came close to the bed.
A strong hand slid up his thigh, replaced by the cold glint of steel. The sharp point of a knife skimmed lightly over his bare skin, leaving no mark or pain, but promising both.
Clark felt the fear ratchet up as the knife hovered over his cheek. Teeth gleamed in the darkness.
“Ah, my son is going to love his birthday present.”
Clark’s body went rigid with shock.
His kidnapper laughed, running his palm down Clark’s stomach and wrapping it around his cock, suddenly squeezing it viciously, the ball gag muffling Clark’s scream.
The kidnapper ran the tip of the knife along the length of the abused cock, patted a bare thigh, laughing as he left the room.
Tears of pain and terror ran down Clark’s face.
His nightmare had come true.
He was in the merciless hands of Edmund Caldwell.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Yes, I cheated by not putting Edmund’s name in the Characters/Pairings lines or in the tags, but I thought there might have been some people who hadn’t guessed. ;)
hit counter javascript